To Build a Family
by simplemusings12
Summary: Michelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti enjoyed his life. He loved his job, his family, his friends, and his home. He built his world around his job, but when the daughter he didn't know existed came into his life, everything about his world changed. Alex became his world, and he would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here I am with the rewrite of my other Flashpoint story, "Sincerely, Me". (You're welcome, guardianranger :)) This will mostly follow the same story line, I just switched some things around, changed names, etc. etc. I will be deleting Sincerely, Me from the site in a week, so if you like that story… save it as a PDF or something. :)**

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

Spike groaned as he rolled over and hit snooze on the alarm clock for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He knew that he would be in trouble if he missed team workout this morning, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was just _so damn tired. _

Forcing himself out of bed, Spike stumbled in the direction of his closet. After putting on his gym clothes, brushing his teeth, grabbing a couple granola bars and snatching his keys from the kitchen table, he left the house and climbed into his car.

He turned the key in the ignition and the car sputtered and coughed, and then, nothing. Spike slammed his hand against the steering wheel with the realization that his car battery was dead. He looked at his watch and decided to just run to the station. It was less than a mile away, so it would take less time than trying to get someone to his house to pick him up.

He started running towards the station on the nearly abandoned sidewalks, with the exception of people who were probably headed to open the bakeries and coffee shops before the morning rush began. He rounded a corner and ran right into someone. Said person tried to spin to get out of the way, but to no avail, she ended up on her back on the pavement.

Spike bent down to help her up. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

"Ouch. God that hurt." She said.

"I am _so _sorry." Spike said, grabbing her arm to help her off the pavement.

"It's fine." The girl said, waving her hand in dismissal.

"My name is Michelangelo, but friends call me Spike." He said in introduction, sticking his hand out for a shake.

"Alessandra, but friends call me Alex." She replied, shaking Spike's hand.

"I'm already running late for work so I really have to get going, but say hey if you see me around sometime. And, I really am sorry." Spike said.

"It's all good. See you." Alex said, giving him a small wave. "Be careful around those corners!"

"No promises!" Spike called back, slowing down slightly as he rounded another corner. He finally made it to the station, but he was thirty minutes late. He tried sneaking in without Greg catching him but was without luck.

"Spike, you are now a half hour late. That's not like you." Greg said. Spike didn't even see him come up beside him.

"Sorry, boss. I got up late this morning, and then my car wouldn't start so I ran here, and to top it all off I plowed a teenage girl over on the sidewalk, making me more late than I already was. It won't happen again." He said.

"Don't let it. Go, get to work." Greg said, slapping Spike on the back and pointing him in the direction of the gym.

Spike dropped his belongings in his locker and pulled out a water bottle and towel before making his way to the gym.

"Look who decided to drag himself out of bed this morning." Ed said, grinning at Spike.

"Someone needed a little extra beauty sleep, eh?" Wordy chimed in, giving Ed a fist bump.

"Beauty sleep? I'm not the one with three daughters." Spike jabbed at Wordy, who pretended to look hurt by his comment.

"So what was the actual reason?" Jules asked.

"My car wouldn't start this morning."

"Uh huh, that's what they always say." Jules said, punching him in the shoulder playfully.

"Seriously. And then to top it all off, I ran into a teenager on my way here. Literally."

"Sure." Wordy said, laughing.

Spike rolled his eyes and gave Lou a fist bump before stepping onto the treadmill next to him. He started off slow before working his way up to a good pace.

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><p>"Team One, we have a hot call!" Winnie called, flipping the alarm on.<p>

"What've we got?" Greg asked. They groaned in dread as it was nearing the end of their shift, so they would definitely be pulling overtime.

"Domestic violence. Subject's name is Jim Bardy, white male, early forties. 5611 37th street." Winnie called as they ran past.

"What more can you tell me, Winnie?" Greg asked once they were on the road.

"Neighbors called reporting gunshots. File shows a history of domestic abuse dating back two years." Winnie said. "Jim Bardy lives with his wife, Ellen Bardy. They have one foster daughter, Alessandra Stanton. She's fourteen years old and has lived with them for a little over two years."

Spike's breath caught in his throat. He knew that the girl he ran into this morning's name was Alessandra. It couldn't be the same girl, right?

"Spike, you okay?" Wordy asked, flipping off his radio for now. Spike followed suit and turned his own off, as well.

"Yeah." Spike responded automatically. "Well… no. Remember how I told you I ran into a teenager this morning?"

Wordy nodded, his brow furrowed in confusion. What did that have to do with anything?

"Her name is Alessandra. Alex." Spike said. "I was just thinking about how I hoped it wasn't her. It isn't a very popular name, after all, so the chances that it's her is high."

Wordy sighed. "Guess we'll find out."

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><p>They arrived at the scene minutes later, lights on and sirens blaring. Ed shouted instructions to the team as they took positions around the house. Spike, along with Ed, Wordy, and Jules were positioned at the front door. Ed banged on the door, announcing their presence to those inside.<p>

"Jim Bardy, open up! This is the Strategic Response Unit!" Ed yelled. He started counting to ten in his head – when they would break down the door in an aggressive entry – but only made it to three before a blood-curdling scream reached their ears.

"Ready on one, two, three." Ed said. Wordy rammed the door down and they swarmed the house. Spike was only vaguely aware of people yelling around him. His mind was focused on Alessandra – Alex – and if the person living in this house was the same girl he met that morning.

After checking his surroundings and not seeing anyone, he rounded the corner to the living room and saw who he assumed was Jim Bardy, holding Alessandra at gunpoint. His wife, Ellen, was already on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Spike couldn't tell if she was alive or not. He felt as if his heart stopped beating in his chest, for the girl being held at gunpoint was the same girl he met earlier that morning. His eyes widened, as did hers, as a spark of recognition flashed over her eyes for a moment before fear returned.

Thousands of thoughts were flying through Spike's mind as he tried to come up with something to say. He couldn't get his mind under control, however, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks when Ed took control of the situation only moments later.

"Jim Bardy, let the girl go." Ed commanded, his voice steely. If looks could kill, Jim would be dead on the floor.

"No." Jim stated, holding his ground. Spike made eye contact with Alex and nodded, trying to reassure her that the situation was under control. The rest of the team joined them with the exception of Sam, who Spike noticed was taking a Scorpio position outside.

"Why don't you tell us what the problem is." Ed said as more of a statement than a suggestion.

"No problem here, now why don't you mind your own business." Jim replied, pressing the gun a little further into Alex's temple. She squeezed her eyes shut and a tear ran down her cheek. Spike couldn't explain the surge of protectiveness he already felt towards this girl, but he knew that he wanted to put a bullet through the middle of Jim's forehead.

"Can't do that." Ed said. "Not when you've got a gun aimed at Alessandra's head."

Spike saw Jim shifting his gaze from each of the members of Team One, and it was after realizing that several guns were trained on his forehead did he know there was no escape. Jim released Alex, raised his hands, and put his gun on safety in one simultaneous motion before kneeling on the ground.

"Hands up! Get on the ground, get on the ground!" Ed commanded, rushing forward to take the gun and cuff him.

"We need the paramedics!" Jules called into her headset.

"_Already on the way." _Winnie replied through the radio.

Alex stepped backwards from the scene, the heel of her hand pressed against her forehead in disbelief. She quickly turned away, however, and made a beeline for Spike, who was already crossing the room to her. She couldn't explain it, but despite her extreme distrust of men, she already trusted Spike.

"Alex!" Spike called, quickly closing the gap between them. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. Spike was stunned for a moment but closed his arms around her back a few seconds later. The team noticed this and looked confused before Wordy clarified.

"Spike met her this morning. Apparently he knocked her over in his haste to get to work." He stated.

"Shhh. It's okay, it's okay. I've got you." Spike said, rubbing her back. Alex sobs were muffled in his shoulder, but they seemed to pierce his ears. He attributed this to his protectiveness of her, despite only knowing her for a day.

He held her for a few more moments until her sobs began to subside before pulling away. "Come on. Let's go make sure you're okay."

Alex sniffled and nodded, but stayed close to Spike as he led her outside. There were two ambulances outside and several unis. The perimeter was already being taped off, and forensics was just arriving on the scene.

"I'm okay, Spike. Just a couple of bruises." Alex said, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks.

"Still, just want to be sure." Spike said, putting his hand on her shoulder and leading her to a waiting ambulance.

"Can you – will you stay with me?" Alex asked, hating how small her voice sounded.

Spike nodded and squeezed her shoulder before allowing the paramedic to take a look at the bruises around her neck and the one on her cheek from where Jim had hit her.

"What's going to happen now?" Alex asked, picking at the loose string on the hem of her t-shirt.

Spike didn't know… he honestly had no idea. He opened his mouth to answer but saw a body bag being wheeled out of the house – Ellen, Alex's foster mom.

Alex whimpered and bit her lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. Though her foster father was an asshole, her foster mother was nothing but kind to her. She finally began to feel like she had a family in her relationship with Ellen, but now that was ripped from her.

Spike moved slowly, in case the sudden movement startled her, and sat next to her on the back of the ambulance. The paramedic caught Spike's eye and seemed to think better of continuing to examine her, so he stepped to the side to give them privacy.

Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her against his side while she struggled to keep composure. Alex had a horrible realization then, and went into a nearly-manic state.

"Spike… I can't. I can't go back into the system." Alex said, beginning to pace in front of the ambulance. Spike stood and put his hands on her arms, trying to still her frantic movements. "What if I get put into another bad home? What if I don't get a home? Most people don't want a fourteen-year-old, because… because they think that I'm going to be a dangerous druggie or something."

"Whoa, easy." Spike said. "We'll figure it out, okay?"

"…But what if I get sent to the girls' home and get beaten up again?" Alex asked.

"I don't know what's going to happen." Spike said honestly, but hoping to communicate it in a consoling tone. "But, I promise that I'll help you through it."

Alex looked distrusting, but she nodded, giving him a small smile in thanks. She sat back down on the back of the ambulance and the paramedic came over, giving her a small smile of sympathy. He was gentle in his movements, but the bruises were sore so there wasn't anything he could have done to avoid causing some pain.

"We're going to have to take her to Toronto General. She might have a bruised trachea, and she'll need a full physical exam." The paramedic said to Spike. It was standard procedure for a child to have a physical examination after leaving a foster care placement. Alex was used to it by now, but she got tired of having several physicals a year.

"Will you be riding with us?" the paramedic asked.

"Uh… yeah." Spike said. "Just give me one second. Let me tell my team."

Spike patted Alex's arm and hopped out of the back of the ambulance. He spotted Ed and Greg and made his way over to them.

"Boss, Ed, I'm going to ride with Alex in the ambulance to the hospital." Spike said. Ed and Greg looked confused that Spike was doing that – it wasn't normal for him (or any of them) to go with the subjects to the hospital.

"It's just, uh, the police are going to want to talk to her and someone should be there with her." Spike lied.

"That's what the social workers are for." Ed said.

"I know, it's just…" Spike said.

"It's what, Spike?" Greg asked. "You can tell us."

"I feel protective." Spike explained. "I think there's something more to this situation than meets the eye, and I want to find out what that is."

Ed and Greg exchanged glances before Ed nodded at Greg.

"All right, Spike. Just be careful, okay?" Greg said.

"I will. Thanks, Boss." Spike said, nodding at them before he went back to the ambulance.

They continued to monitor Alex's vitals and examine her injuries on the way to the hospital. Spike didn't miss how tense Alex got any time the paramedic touched her. He began to wonder the reason behind that, but figured he would probably be finding out later.

They arrived at the hospital, and though it took some convincing from Spike for them to allow him in the room, they finally conceded. He stayed out of the way but close enough so that Alex was aware of his constant presence. The physical seemed to take forever, but Alex was glad that Spike was there.

Spike sat in a chair next to her bed while they waited for the results to come back. While they waited, two detectives came in the room to ask her about the events that took place. According to Alex, violence had been a reoccurring problem for Jim after he started drinking heavily when he lost his job two years ago. He hid it well, though, especially when the social workers would come for home visitations. To say that he was a functional alcoholic was an understatement, but he often let himself get out of control and he would take that anger out on his wife and Alex.

There were several times when Alex had to stop and regain composure before she continued. Spike kept telling her she didn't have to finish today and the detectives could come back tomorrow, but Alex insisted on finishing.

It took a while… but she did it.

The doctor came in shortly after the detectives left, and Spike could immediately tell that he did not have good news.

"Alessandra, would you like your father to stay or do you want him to step out?" the doctor asked.

"Spike's not my father." Alex said.

The doctor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before flipping open his chart. "It says here on your birth certificate that your father is Michelangelo Scarlatti. That's you, isn't it?"

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><p><strong>Review, follow, and favorite! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Spike froze. Father? _He_ was her father? He was the only Michelangelo Scarlatti in the world that he was aware of. Could there be another one? Surely this wouldn't – couldn't have happened. His mind was racing. He felt dizzy, nauseous, shocked, overwhelmed. He was vaguely aware of Alex trying to get his attention, and he forced himself to steady himself.

Focus, Spike. Focus.

"What?" Spike asked.

"You're Michelangelo Scarlatti?" Alex asked in a small voice. He couldn't pinpoint her exact emotion, but she sounded hurt, scared.

Spike nodded, swallowing a lump that was the size of a cantaloupe.

"Who's uh – what's your mother's name?" Spike asked, thinking back fourteen years to whoever he was in a relationship with at the time.

"Carla. Carla Stanton." Alex said, analyzing Spike closely.

Spike froze.

Carla was his girlfriend roughly fifteen years ago. She suddenly broke up with him, leaving town, changing her phone number. She seemingly dropped off the face of the planet, and at the time Spike didn't know why, but now, seeing this girl before him, he think he had a pretty good idea.

He was reckless… there was no doubt about it. Looking back, he wondered how Carla could have stayed with him for so long when he was so immature. He was fresh out of university and in the police academy in relentless pursuit of becoming a team member of the SRU. She was a nurse, and it suited her. She loved people and always put them first, even above her own needs. She was selfless but strong, humble but firm in her decisions. Spike loved her, and now looking at the girl before him, he wished he would have treated her better.

He was a father.

Alex was his daughter.

This thrilled Spike, because he now realized why they felt such a strong connection right from the beginning. Such was the bond between a parent and a child, he supposed, and he couldn't wait to get to know more about her.

But, he was also terrified. He didn't know the first thing about being a parent, and he knew that he would be receiving counsel from Ed and Wordy as he entered this new chapter in his life. He was going to adopt her now, there was no doubt about that. The thought had already entered his mind before he found out that she was his daughter, but once he requested the paternity test and it confirmed what he already felt in his heart, then it would be official.

How would his team react to the news?

How would his _parents _react?

"You're my… dad." Alex said slowly, not believing what she was hearing. She didn't have to ask Spike if her mom was his girlfriend (or whatever) at the time because his face already confirmed everything she had already believed in her heart.

Her mind couldn't wrap around the concept that the man – the only man in the world she trusted – in front of her was her father. She was experiencing more emotions than she thought her brain could handle. Confusion, for sure. How was this even possible? He seemed shocked by the news, so he had clearly not known about her. Angry, because after her mother died she went to hell and back in the girls' home and in foster care, all because she didn't have a father. Happy, because if she already trusted him after knowing him for a day, then getting to know him as her dad should be easy… right? Terrified, because she didn't know what was going to happen next. Would he want her? Would he adopt her?

"Alex, I swear I didn't know." Spike said, entering what could appropriately be described as a near-panic state. "If I had known, I would have been there."

"My mom didn't tell you?" Alex asked, hastily wiping away the tear that was rolling down her cheek.

"No." Spike replied. "No, she – she left."

"Left?" Alex asked, wanting more information.

"Things were going well, or so I thought, and I woke up one morning to find a note saying that she was leaving. She changed her phone number and left town. I tried looking for her but couldn't find her. I never heard from her again." Spike said, his voice sad.

Alex began to cry. Spike wanted to comfort her, even more so now that he knew she was his daughter, but didn't for fear of pushing her away. It was a sensitive time right now, and Spike knew that she needed time to process all this new information. Hell, _he _needed to process this information.

He was going to ask about Carla – her mother, but knowing what he did about her, he knew that she would have never given Alex up. He didn't have to ask Alex what he already knew – Carla was dead.

The doctor cleared his throat, regaining their attention. Both forgot that he was even in the room.

"I can order a paternity test, if you would like Mr. Scarlatti." He said.

Spike nodded, not trusting his voice to work.

The matter dropped, for now, but Spike knew that he and Alex would be discussing it further after the doctor gave his prognosis.

"Alessandra has two cracked ribs, but they look like old injuries based on the x-ray. Her trachea is bruised, but that, along with the bruise on her cheek will heal on their own after a week or two. There's evidence of other injuries that ranging from a couple years to a couple weeks ago." The doctor said gently, knowing that it wasn't because of multiple accidents but of abuse. Injuries from abuse were unmistakable. They were widespread, unexplained, and sometimes in the shape of a hand or foot. For example, Alex has an injury to the center of her back. At the time it happened, she said she fell while skiing, but to have that kind of injury in that location while skiing was nearly impossible.

"My foster dad." Alex said, appearing embarrassed. "They're all from my foster dad."

"Did you ever receive treatment for these injuries?" The doctor inquired.

"No." Alex replied. "He didn't want to attract attention because he knew it would be obvious. He told me he would hurt me worse if I told anyone, so I didn't."

Spike's heart clenched upon hearing about these injuries. He was filled with regret because he knew that if he known about her, none of these things would have happened.

She wouldn't have had to face the bullies at the girls' home.

She wouldn't have been abused for two years at the hand of an alcoholic.

She wouldn't have been moved from house to house because nobody wanted a "damaged" teenager.

She wouldn't have faced the fear of being unwanted, the pain of being beaten, and the uncertainty of tomorrow…

If only Spike would have been there.

He forced his mind away from those thoughts because he knew beating himself up about it wouldn't help the situation any.

"Well, I know that you have already spoken to the detectives about it so I won't press the matter any further, but I will keep these in your records so that you will be more protected against these kinds of injuries in the future." The doctor said, making notes on Alex's chart.

"A nurse will be in here shortly to collect blood samples from the both of you. Since you are a member of the Strategic Response Unit you will be given priority, so you will have paternity results within the next 24 hours." He explained.

"After the nurse comes to receive blood samples, a social worker will be here to collect Alessandra and transport her to the girls' home until decisions about her placement are made." The doctor said, treading delicately.

Alex swallowed thickly and nodded. She dreaded going back there, but held on to the ounce of hope that she wouldn't have to be there for long.

The doctor left after asking if they had any questions for him.

"So… what now?" Alex asked. She contemplated seeming standoffish, but she didn't want to risk pushing Spike away so much that he didn't want to adopt her. She suspected he wanted to, otherwise he wouldn't have ordered a paternity test.

Spike rubbed the back of his neck before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I don't want you to go back to the girls' home. And I sure as hell don't want you to go back into foster care." Spike said. Alex held her breath as she allowed herself to hope in having a life again.

Spike wrestled with his next words. He knew that they had a lot to talk about… She had a lot of questions that needed answering, he still needed to talk to Greg and his parents… they had only just found each other, and he only knew he was a father for about five minutes. He still didn't know how she felt about it, though he assumed she would probably be happy. He wanted to adopt her, but he didn't want to make assumptions. He knew he was going to fight to keep her, but would she want him?

"I don't want you to go back to either of those places because I want you to come stay with me." Spike said, meeting her eyes. Her eyes were wide and hopeful, for even though she had a lot of questions, she wanted nothing more than to have a home.

And if that home was with Spike, then she was damn lucky.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry that took me so long, and sorry it's so short. Real life got in the way. Please review!**


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